


Rainbow-Colored Rain

by woodworms_before_breakfast



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Pendragon (mentioned) - Freeform, Canon Era, Character Study, Fate & Destiny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:34:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodworms_before_breakfast/pseuds/woodworms_before_breakfast
Summary: Sometimes, when he is alone with his thoughts and his immortality, he thinks about his life, and the words come without warning.
Kudos: 5
Collections: The Melee Challenge





	Rainbow-Colored Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Melee Challenge: January 30 - February 6, 2021  
> Prompt #4 (Bubble)

He lives in a world of rainbow-colored rain. That is all, and there is no pain. Nothing touches him that hasn’t been squeezed out through the fabric of his umbrella, like a callused hand stroking the udders of a cow.

He knows this because the voices say so. He has nothing left to fear, and he will be gravely punished should he begin to fear.

“Don’t touch me,” he cries, blind and wandering in darkness that laughs as it dances around him. The voices are not pleased that he raps against the door of the room in which they’ve locked him. He’s supposed to be happy, content, satisfied.

They have listened to his prayers: _I want a purpose, a meaning, something to explain who I am_. They have taken his words and thrown them back at him as one, a _destiny_. He should be safe and happy now, because they have built a bubble around him. (Bubbles pop, he thinks, but they brush it aside.)

He no longer sees himself for what he is. Only Albion fills his vision, and with her, Arthur. The two are tied together inextricably, but whether he or fate holds the end of the string, he does not know. Has destiny thrown Arthur into this ring of dry earth? Or has Merlin pointed a looking glass into the rain and chosen Arthur to fill his vision?

“You live in a bubble,” Will says angrily as he shoves a blue cloak into his traveling bag. “Sooner or later, it’s going to pop.”

Merlin knows. But what’s the harm in enjoying this measly scrap of protection that will be gone all too soon? He does not want Will to leave. He wants Will to see his bubble, and to understand Arthur, and to be happy for him.

Maybe he would not find someone who loves him the way the stories tell it. No one would die for him. No one would blow through an army of thousands for him. No one would give up their humanity for him.

Maybe it’s because there are no more armies of thousands to keep them apart. Or another reason. Romance is dead, or at least buried under twelve feet of earth, maybe.

A gentle kiss by the lake, with eyes that stare into each other and see nothing else — he remembers reading such words, and it saddens him that they will never come to his life.

No one would die for him.

But he will, for someone else. Even if it is the last thing he does, he will die for someone he loves. And he will prove that such love exists, and that will be enough. Pain is a kind of hope, after all.

Until then, the rainbow-colored rain does not touch him. It leaves him in a dry, grey circle, and shies away from his fingers as he reaches out to touch. He will not wake. Not until the sun stops burning him, casting him in his own, agonizing column of heat. Not until someone grips his wrist and pulls him, hoarse and heaving, into the sweet relief of the rain.


End file.
